Paul introduced his wife. The general said, gently:
"I see that you feel pity, madame, in spite of all that you have gone through. But you must have no pity, madame. Of course it is the pity which we cannot help feeling for those about to die. But we must have no pity for these people or for members of their race. They have placed themselves beyond the pale of mankind; and we must never forget it. When you are a mother, madame, you will teach your children a feeling to which France was a stranger and which will prove a safeguard in the future: hatred of the Huns."
He took her by the arm in a friendly fashion and led her towards the door:
"Allow me to see you out. Are you coming, Delroze? You must need rest after such a day's work."
They went out.
The spy was shrieking:
"Mercy! Mercy!"
The soldiers were already drawn up in line along the opposite wall.
The count, Paul and Bernard waited for a moment. She had killed the Comte d'Andeville's wife. She had killed Bernard's mother and Paul's father. She had tortured Élisabeth. And, though their minds were troubled, they felt the great calm which the sense of justice gives. No hatred stirred them. No thought of vengeance excited them.
The gendarmes had fastened the spy by the waistband to a nail in the wall, to hold her up. They now stood aside.